


Kiss Goodbye

by YuMe89



Series: Choices We Make [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, I'm Sorry, Making Out, Other, more pain in the second chapter, slight description of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuMe89/pseuds/YuMe89





	1. Chapter 1

A cold wind surrounded him, as he stood on the edge of a cliff in Iceland. What would happen, if he discorporated himself? Surely Heaven wouldn't be so kind to get him a new body. Was he damned to wander about in a ghostly form? Better not try his luck. He took a few steps back. 

Aziraphale sat down in the damp grass, carding his fingers through it. Feeling Earth like this, was a new experience. Before this vacation, he didn't want to get into contact too much, but he came to the conclusion, that Earth made him feel alive again. Something only Crowleys smile had managed before. 

He looked up towards the grey-blue sky, suddenly a scowl on his face. He would never say it out loud, but he could think about it, staring up. _I loath you._ Averting his eyes and fixing them on a fisherboat puttering in the sea. Thinking about visiting Crowley and telling him how he really felt. Maybe he could at least share a few happy moments with him. 

He might feel healed, if one could describe it like that, but the way he missed his demon, showed him, he couldn't just go on. He could see his vacation as last goodbye to Earth. 

"Angel!", he heard suddenly, in a voice he would know in an instant within a loud crowd. Closing his eyes he shook his head. Just as he was thinking about his next step. Waging down, if he should risk it or not.

Turning his head towards the voice he missed the most. "Crowley.", he nodded, his intonation tender. He seized his friend up. He looked different and still the same. His hair was long again and he had a dark beard. It suited him, as everything he ever did to his vessel. 

"Hell of a ride finding you, I have to admit.", the demon said sauntering towards and sitting down next to him. "You do realize the grass is wet, right?", he stated, looking at his hand with disgust and drying it on his jacket, leather pants aren't ideal to dry anything with them.

"Yes, I am aware of it. I just don't care.", was his answer and a cocky glance towards him. 

"Your buttocks will be all wet.", Crowley said off-handly, smiling at Aziraphale. Just now realizing how much he really missed this bastard of an Angel.

"What do you care about my buttocks?", Aziraphale asked, tying to suppress his matching grin.

"I do care a lot about your buttocks, you know that.", was the answer. 

"Still?", the Angel asked softly. Crowley averted his eyes and sighed, annoyed with himself. "Yeah, I don't think it will go away anytime soon."

They sat there in silence for a while, stealing glances of each other. 

"What is the matter with this Poyel boy of yours?", Crowley asked suddenly, looking directly at Aziraphale. The Angel had to laugh out loud at that. "You met him then? Yeah, he's...something."

"No really, that Angel got a pretty big hard-on for you. The way he defended your honor and everything. I mean, he was about to shit his pants all the while, but he tried to be intimidating.", the demon said, a smile dancing on his lips. 

Aziraphale felt like a draught being graced with long awaited rain. Catching himself from staring too much, he asked:"What did you say to him?"

"Why is it, that the first thing you think is, that I said something to him?", the demon said, offended. 

A slight raise of his brow and Crowley made a few protesting sounds, giving in at last. "Okay, fine! He was being a little shit and I told him, I would eat him, if he stopped me again."

Laughter bubbled up inside Aziraphale, he couldn't stop them from escaping. "You did _what_? How would you even be able to eat him?", he mused, questioning look in his eyes, as he admired Crowleys profile.

"I am a Serpent, you know that. Pretty sure I could transform into a huge snake and just..swallow him down whole.", he admitted, not very proud of himself as he said this out loud.

"Now that's a mental image.", Aziraphale commented, his face all innocent and open, but Crowley knew better. Inside, his Angel was laughing at him and that situation. 

"Where have you been, all this time?", Aziraphale asked him and Crowley shrugged. 

"I slept for a while. Two and a half decades or so. And then I was angry at myself for forbidding you to contact me. And then I was angry at you for just respecting my wishes, until I realized, as an Angel, it's kind of a thing for you, to not go against me."

"I have to apologize.", the Angel said and got a offhand gesture in return. 

It was quiet again, both just reminicing in the presence of the other. Once again, it was Crowley breaking the silence. "We can be friends, right?", he asked. Sorrow filled the Angel, as he shook his head. 

"I wish we could, but I don't think it's possible.", he said, finally looking at Crowley, gently taking off the others glasses. He had a sudden desire to see those yellow-golden eyes, as his decision stood.

The demon wanted to break their eyecontact, deeply hurt by Aziraphales words, but was stopped, as a slightly damp hand held his face, stoking his full dark beard with a thump. Throwing caution to the wind, the Angel leaned forward and kissed Crowley featherlight. "I feel too much for you.", he whispered. "I'm sorry I lied before." He was crying silently, just as a sunray hit them. 

"I've always loved you.", the Angel said, as he realized it wasn't the sun shining down on them, stealing one last kiss. Crowley was stunned into silence. Poyel had told him everything about Gods threat towards Aziraphale. He knew what was about to happen now.

" _Aziraphale, I've warned you._ ", thundered Gods voice down on them and with no further ado, She let him Fall. 

The Angel withered in pain and screamed, clutching his face and chest in agony. His wings were fluttering around, seemingly on fire and causing him immense pain. He tried to stand up multiple times, resulting in kneeling too close to the edge. 

"No! Aziraphale! You stupid Angel!", Crowley found his voice again, trying to scramble to his feet in time to prevent Aziraphale from falling off the cliff, but it was too late. Like in slow-motion, he lost his footing, as he had tried to stand up again and fell over. 

Crowley looked over the edge, afraid to see him collide with the rough and sharp stones down there. Just as he was supposed to impact the ground, he disappeared in a flurry of blackness.

God was still there, the Demon looked up at her. "I hate you, I've never hated you before, but this...I will forever hate you for this.", his voice broke a few times. The light disappeared again. He knew She had heard him, but didn't think his words required an answer.

The demon looked down. Now it was up to Hell, what happened to Aziraphale. Closing his eyes, he hoped his Angel wouldn't get tortured or destroyed. Hell had left him alone rather quickly after Armageddon't, even though he knew, he still wore a mark on his back, when it came to Hastur.

He also knew, that Aziraphale would be very dangerous, if they decided to let him live. Someone whose Ability to Love was completely gone, would not be a friend of Earth...or anyone.

Crowley dried his tears, before diappearing back to his flat in Soho.


	2. All Hail Satan

He fell down, through sulfur suffocating him nearly, fire burning him alive, his voice was gone, he couldn't scream anymore. But the pain went on and on. At some point he got lightheaded, which made him feel like he floated. The fire burned him from the inside out, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. It felt like he was falling for years and years, eons. Aziraphale lost track of time.

With a loud smack he landed in Hell, crawling on all fours, he groaned. His bones felt broken. He looked around, trying to pinpoint where he was exactly, when he catched sight of the Being before him.

Satan himself, not as big as the last time he had seen him, but still huge, sitting in his throne, watching him with amusement.

"Azzzirrrra Fell, heh, I like that.", he drawled, his voice droning in Aziraphales head. He still kneeled before him.

"You've been a naughty little Angel, Aziraphale. I could just destroy you now, seeing as you stopped the Apocalypse and all.", he said, looking at him indifferent, then he smiled, big and toothy. "But that would be exactly what God wants and we both know rebelling against her is my trait."

Aziraphale just wanted him to shut up, his head was going to explode, as Satan 'downloaded' important information for him, directly to his brain. "Oh, you think it's hurting now? You're not in your final demon form yet. I took it upon myself to create you. You're special.", he winked, making a finger gun at him.

And without any further warning, other than a slight gesture of his hand, causing Aziraphale extreme pain, as he twisted him this way and that. The freshly fallen Angel hovered a few feet above the ground, enduring whatever Lucifer did to him. 

"What's your spirit animal, you think?", he mused out loud grinning, deciding on something rather unusual for a demon. He forced Aziraphales wings out again, giving him a much larger wingspan than before and turning them into an eyecatching color. 

When he was finished, he couldn't be prouder of himself. He still looked like himself, but his aura was cold and threatening. Satan had planted a seed in him, he wouldn't be able to recognize himself. A last fuck you to God. His clothes were battered and burned and Azira-fell changed into something new with the flick of his wrist.

Standing before his King, in a brand new deep black Hugo Boss suit, matching button down and a burgundy colored tie, he smirked up, all sharp teeth. "All hail Satan."

"Azira-fell, you had been a Principality in Heaven, I thought it would be fitting to give you a similar position here, as a Prince of Hell. I want you to go Upstairs and gather as much souls as possible. They will serve you as Demons in addition to those, I will give you."

The newly fallen Angel inclined his head, to aknowledge his Masters doing and his task. As he left Satan, it still felt like his bones were made of carcoel. Turning many corridors he encountered Hastur.

"What are you doing here? You're an Angel!", he spat, disgust visible on his face. "Not anymore.", he smiled, it was not a pleasent smile. "Now I'm a Prince of Hell. If I'm correct, I outrank you, right?", Azira-fell said, head slightly inclined. He had adopted this from watching Crowley several millenia doing so. Looking at Hastur with fake pity.

The Duke of Hell bared his teeth in hate. "I will kill you, you and your flashy boyfriend!"

"No, you won't.", Azira-fell said, snapping his fingers and putting Hastur in one of the Circles of Hell. He didn't even bother to decide in which one the other landed. The gall he had, threatening a Prince of Hell, served him right to suffer now.

Straightening his slim fitting suit, obviously Hell made him lose some pounds, he walked out of Hells front doors. It was a miracle his shiny black shoes didn't have a speck of dirt on them. He didn't spare Heavens stairs a single glance on his way out.

As he wandered about, tempting here and there, just little things, that would unfold with time, he miracled himself a smartphone directly out of the store. Paying was for Angels. He still knew Crowleys phonenumber and saved it for later, along with the number of his own bookshop. Well, wouldn't need that one anymore, he guessed. Maybe he will set it on fire. 

Slowley, he made his way to his oldest friend. Leaving a trail of heartbreake and chaos as he went. Whistling a soft tune, he rang the bell outside to Crowleys flat. He knew the demon was home, he could practically sense his presence in there.

He really didn't like being ignored, so he just opened the door himself and took the stairs. Standing in the hall before the doorway to his flat, Azira-fell didn't bother to ring the bell again and he would definitely not knock. As he pushed the door open, he took in the apartment. It seemed empty, the former Angel new better.

"Oh, Crowley...", he said in a sing-song voice. Nothing. "You better not try any stunts with holy water again.", he said, knowing what Crowley had done to Ligur. He stood before a decorative statue of two fighting angels and inspected it. He had never bothered to look at it before. 

"Aziraphale!", he heard behind him, a shocked, but relieved Crowley. "You're not dead."

He spun around and leaned his head to the side, looking at the other demon from top to bottom.  
"Obviously not.", was the dry remark. "And I go by Azira-fell these days. Our King thought it had a nice ring to it."

Leaving Crowley speechless, he approached him slowly, like a wolf stalking it's prey. The other demon took the same amount of steps back, as Azira-fell came closer. He made small noises of approval. "Uuh, quite fitting, yeah."

His back hit one of his large, cold walls. Azira-fell was in his personal space in an instant. One hand aroung his neck, his face too close for comfort and as he smiled, there weren't any human teeth anymore, they were sharp, like a wild animal. 

Crowley thought about the absurdity of this situation. There was a time when it had been reversed, but he was sure, Aziraphale was never afraid of him. His fear only intensified, as Azira-fell spread his wings. They were huge and blood red, matching his tie. The auburn haired demon gulped, the hand aroung his neck got tighter. "You're the reason I'm like this.", he began, his teeth were back to normal, as he spoke.

Crowley could see hellfire in Aziraphales hazel eyes. What had Satan done to him? 

"If I hadn't gotten all lovey-dovey on you, I could've still been an Angel, but no I had to encounter you. And you made me fall for you.", he went on, the hellfire grew, Crowley could practically feel it on his skin, where ever Azira-fell looked at him.

The other demon felt a flare of anger in himself. "I didn't do anything to you. That ones all on yourself! You went and kissed me! It was your own bloody choice."

They were just a breath away from each other. "Oh right, the kiss...do you remember it like this?" You can't count it as a real warning, but it was all Crowley got, before Azira-fell kissed him. It was not a nice kiss, at first, all teeth, nothing like the one in Iceland. It was cruel and painful and very demanding. And it got really dirty, once he held back on the biting and involved their tongues. The fresh demon and newly Price of Hell sucked on Crowleys tongue in a way, that made the other demon dizzy.

Crowley was sure it felt like Azira-fell wanted to destroy a beautiful memory within seconds. It didn't work.

Satans little gift started to bloom, unbeknownst by it's host, as Crowley grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him impossibly nearer. Even though Azira-fell he did feel a change within himself, he ignored it in this moment.

He stopped the kiss and let go of Crowley, who slipped down the wall like a limb noodle and looked up at him. Positively debauched, breathing harder than ever. They stared at each other for a while, until Crowley looked down, seemingly remembering something. "Fuck.", he really shouldn't have made the effort. His pants were too tight for genitals anyway. But he never had this problem before.

Azira-fell had put his wings back and turned to go. He still heard Crowleys little mental breakdown, accompanied by multiple swearwords. Smirking, he looked back and catched the others eyes. "Don't be so smug.", Crowley said, his vocal chords a bit damaged and therefore horase.

"Oh, I encountered Hastur in Hell.", the former Angel said, as if they just had a light conversation about the weather.

It did help with Crowleys current state. "And?", the other demon asked, trying to stand up on wobbly knees. This was embarressing. He really didn't know he liked power plays so much. Although, this was not a play, it was real. 

"He wanted to kill me. I put him in one of the Circles of Hell. Don't ask me which, I just wanted him gone.", Azira-fell elaborated, looking desinterested.

"You can do that? How?", Crowley stared at him, unhidden wonder in his eyes. 

"Well, I am a Prince of Hell. Lowly demons like Hastur shouldn't threaten me.", he stated offhandly.

Crowley just continued to stare. "Yeah, right, okay. Uhh...", he had just a makeout session with a Prince of Hell. No biggie. If Azira-fell was so devoted to Hell, then there was a rather big chance for him being thrown to the wolfs. He new about their stunt after Armageddon-that-never-happened... He gathered the courage still left somewhere inside him.

"Did God really take your ability to-"-"Yes.", was the short answer, before he could even finish. Suddenly Azira-fell stood before him again, grabbing his hair and tilting his head a bit more violently than needed. "I might not be able to love, but Lust is still a Sin I can indulge in. And you're so willing, aren't you?", he asked, licking a path along Crowleys neck. Bringing out a moan. 

The demon gripped Azira-fells arm, trying to distance himself, and looked at him. "I don't know. It's not really what I want." Their mouths found each other again shortly after his words and like before, the Prince of Hell broke their kiss.

"It's all you get." and with that he vanished, leaving a very confused Crowley. His Angel would've never done this. But to be fair, he wasn't a Celestial Being of Love anymore. It was just so uncharacteristic. Crowley wasn't sure if he should be happy about Aziraphale being alive or not. 

It had been five years, since he had seen him in Iceland. 

Lucifer sure took his time with him, as it seemed. 


End file.
